


Please Don't Cry, You Liar

by spaceconspiracy



Category: Deadpool (Comics), Marvel (Comics), Spider-Man (Comicverse), Superior Spider-Man, The Amazing Spider-Man (2012), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Hallucinations, M/M, Spideypool - Freeform, Spoiler Alert - Freeform, Suicide, Superfamily, also deadpoolreborn!wade, and civil war, extreme angst haha, for superior spider-man, so not scarred!wade, wade is a killing machine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 02:11:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spaceconspiracy/pseuds/spaceconspiracy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Wade,” Peter smiles at him. A Peter smile, a real smile, that special one for him, that “You’re a dumbass and a jerk and I love you more than anything” smile.</p>
<p>	Something in Wade hurts.</p>
<p>	“You’re not Peter,” he says, and he’s lifting his favorite gun.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Don't Cry, You Liar

**Author's Note:**

> So I just found out about Superior Spider-Man and I’m still crying and I was like, that’s it, I have to write this, and so here I am. Haha, lots of comic inconsistencies, because I’m not even done reading Cable and Deadpool okay. I’m going AU with this shit so it can happen the way that my fangirl heart needs it to. Also I googled/wikipedia’d a bunch on Cable but I’m still not sure what he’s up to right now. And Deadpool for that matter. Also let’s just throw in a weird mixture of Marvel’s Cinema’Verse for that matter. Oh shush this is just a feelings rant okay, but do excuse inaccuracies, please.  
> ALSO SPOILER ALERTS FOR SUPERIOR SPIDER-MAN, CIVIL WAR, DEADPOOL (REBORN), AND MOVIE’VERSE. SORRY. Lyrics from Liar by Mumford and Sons

_**I.** _ _I know that things are broken, a_ _nd though there’s too many words left unsaid_

  
“Yo, superhusbands!”  
  
If Tony had the energy, the will, he would’ve leapt off his bed and decked Wade Wilson in his stupid face. He would’ve thrown him to the ground and demanded he get out of his house (more importantly, his bedroom) or so help him God. Unfortunately he didn’t have either.  
  
All he could do was lie there, and cry at the glint in Wade’s eyes.  
  
“Wilson,” he mutters, voice sounding choked, and Steve stirs beside him, though he doubts that he’s slept at all. It’s only been a few weeks, how could anyone expect either of them to be alright?  
  
“Rise and shine, sleeping beauties,” Wade boasts, slapping Tony on his hip, hitting a bruise that Tony had hoped would be gone by now. “I need your help finding Petey.”  
  
Something raw and sharp cuts through Tony’s chest, and he’s sure his arc reactor is splintering and shattering and damn it Wade go away I can’t handle this right now please.  
  
Steve stifles a noise beside him.  
  
Tony sits up slowly, avoiding the quizzical look in Wade’s eyes. He isn’t scarred anymore, hasn’t been for months now, and his eyes are too bright and too blue and he may not look anything like the Wade Wilson that Pet - that Tony met years ago, but he’s still him inside. And Tony knows, knows in the very core of his being, that whatever his reaction to this - this news (dammit) - would be, the answer is not good. Tony could barely keep himself from slaughtering half the world and he has morals damn it, and Wade Wilson doesn’t.  
  
Steve’s up too, standing and crossing the room, leaving out the door, presumably to the kitchen. Wade watches him with an eyebrow raised and then turns back to Tony, blonde hair flopping against his forehead. “What’s with the puppy dog faces? You haven’t looked like that since Civil War.”  
  
Tony’s throat clenches.  
  
Some minutes later, and Wade’s sprawled out on Tony and Steve’s couch, feet dangling over one edge, an arm thrown over the back. “Seriously, is Petey mad at me or something?” he asks and Steve makes another strange noise, sitting on the coffee table with a thud. He keeps his gaze laser focused on the carpet.  
  
Tony puts a hand on his shoulder, but tis’ more to ensure that he himself doesn't fall over. Or crumple to the ground in pure agony. That’s plausible too.  
  
Wade plows on, “Whoa, is he dumping me?” he props his head up on his hand. “I mean, I know that we’ve --  
  
“Wade just stop,” Tony grounds out.  
  
“Is he going to jump out with a cake and say surprise?!” The sickening part is that Wade looks genuinely hopeful. “Aw, shucks, guys, it’s not even my birthday.”  
  
“Shut up,” Tony closes his eyes. “Shut the fuck up, Wilson, just fucking listen, okay?!”  
  
“Merc with a mouth,” Wade shrugs. “Why do I always gotta remind you guys in fan fiction, I mean, come on -”  
  
“DAMN IT WADE,” Tony’s screaming and he didn’t mean to, he really didn’t, but it’s the only way he’s going to get this fucking message across - this stupid fucking message that he wished more than God damn anything wasn’t happening right now, God, please, please let me just wake up. “  
  
“But -”  
  
“HE’S DEAD.”  
  
The words reverberate against Tony’s ears, all around the house, and Steve slumps over like he’s given up on living any more, and Tony falls to his knees and Wade is just staring at him with his mouth open and his eyes wide and his fists clenching at his sides like he can’t beleive it, like he doesn’t.  
  
“He - he wasn’t him - for a long time,” Tony sobs out, and he hates that he’s crying, but there’s nothing he can do. “It wasn’t him, it was Dr. Octopus, the fucking asshole, and I -”  
  
There’s a flurry of movement that Tony barely has time to register, and when he does, Wade’s got him pinned to the ground, with a katana held to his throat, and his blue eyes are so dark they’re edging towards purple, wide and wild and alive with rage. “You’re lying,” he hisses. “I always knew you were a liar, Stark, stop this - it’s not - stop it!” Wade clenches his jaw. “Where is he, where’s Peter.”  
  
“Wade -”  
  
But Wade’s gone.  
  
Steve is sobbing.  
  
 **II.** _You say you have spoken; l_ _ike the coward I am I hang my head_

  
“Where is he -  
  
[Didn’t you hear Stark, he’s dead, idiot.]  
  
“Don’t lie to me,” he presses the gun further into the stranger’s jaw, and he can’t make out a face, only that there’s somebody that Peter - Peter, Petey, Pete, Spidey, his spider, his - knew - KNOWS DAMMIT - worked with, even, the scientific little bastard. “Tell me where he is.”  
  
“He - hasn’t been in - please, please don’t kill me.”  
  
Wade cocks his gun and blows the weeping man’s brains out.  
  
 **III**.Y _ou lie careless your head on my chest;_ _And don’t even look at me looking my best_

  
“PETER -”  
  
The apartment is still, too still, to empty, untouched in days. Weeks, even. There’s spoiler milk [Petey never lets his milk spoil] and ants attacking a plate of pizza and the TV is still on and flickering the menu of one of Peter’s favorite DVDS [never liked the movie myself, too much romance.]  
  
“Petey,” Wade Wilson doesn’t cry, doesn’t even know how to, so maybe the apartment fused with a pool or something because it looks like he’s looking through water. He stumbles to Peter’s - their, their - bedroom, and it’s just as empty as everywhere else.  
  
Wade curls up on the mattress and drowns.  
  
 **IV**. _And all these things I can’t describe, you would rather I didn’t try_

“Peter? Petey, I knew you weren’t dead, I knew you weren’t.”

“Wade, don’t let him trick you, it’s not Peter.”  
  
“What, no, of course it is. It’s my Pete, my Spidey, you’re alive, right, baby?”  
  
“Wade -”  
  
“Man, Pete, I knew Stark was lying to me, I knew you wouldn’t leave me like that.”  
  
 **V.**   _But please don’t cry, you liar; Oh please don’t cry, you liar_

  
“It wasn’t him for months, at the end. It was Dr. Octopus, I’m sure - I’m sure Peter told you about him if you didn’t help fight him yourself. He somehow swapped their consciousness, Tony Stark knows all the details. Peter’s consciousness was in his body, the doctor’s.  
  
“He dragged all of us there, all of his friends and family, to the Avengers tower. Threatened us, threatened to . . . but no, Peter, Peter saved us. He did, he saved us, and right there at the end, he gave the - he gave the bastard his memories and emotions. He turned someone good.”  
  
“Wasn’t the first time.”  
  
“Yeah. Yeah I know. We wondered why you weren’t there - we figured, maybe it was because, you two hadn’t been getting along ever since - your healing factor went away - and your scars - and -”  
  
“. . .”  
  
“I’m sorry, Wade.”  
  
 **VI.**   _Oh please don’t cry, you liar; Oh please don’t cry, you liar_

[Why weren’t we there.]  
  
<We could’ve saved him, like he saved us.>  
  
[Look at how out of character this is, this is what Peter did to us. Every one of those shippers too.]  
  
<We needed him.>  
  
[No, we didn’t, Peter ruined us, we’re better off. No more nagging, no more, blah, blah, blah, be safe, no more, make sure you don’t die today. We’ll damn well die if we want to.]  
  
<We do don’t we?>  
  
[It’s not what Peter would’ve wanted.]  
  
<Peter’s dead.>  
  
[Some bastard is walking around in his body.]  
  
<We could kill him.>  
  
“And then ourselves.”  
  
 **VII**.  _And you lean in for your last kiss_

  
“Wade,” Peter smiles at him. A Peter smile, a real smile, that special one for him, that “You’re a dumbass and a jerk and I love you more than anything” smile.  
  
Something in Wade hurts.  
  
“You’re not Peter,” he says, and he’s lifting his favorite gun and aiming in between Peter’s - his Peter, his Spidey - eyes.  
  
Peter - not Peter - sighs. “I have all his memories, his emotions.” His (beautiful) eyes darken. “He loved you, Wade Wilson.”  
  
“You have 2.47 seconds to get out of my face before I blow yours off, and trust me, without a regenerative healing factor, it can get a bit more than messy. Oh, I have the Avengers on speed dial too. It’s bittersweet.”   
  
“Wade -”  
  
“One -”  
  
And then Peter’s gone again and Wade’s falling to the ground in a heap of red and black spandex.  
  
 **VIII.** _Who in this world could ask me to resist_

  
“Mmm, Petey, what about this one?”  
  
Wade is standing in the mirror, holding two identical ties in each of his (unscarred) hands, eyes boring into his own reflection, in the reflection off to the right, sitting cross-legged on the bed, with an eyebrow raised.  
  


“Wade, they’re the same.”

His voice is kind of distorted from Wade’s memory, but it’s close enough. “No, no, the edges on this one come out more like so,” Wade demonstrates, fixating the bow tie to his neck.

“That one then - are you almost done, I’m starving.

“After your funeral, we should hit up Del Taco.”

  
**IX**. _Your hands cold as they find my neck_

  
“I didn’t mean to hurt you.”  
  
“It’s not your fault, Pete.”  
  
“I promise.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
 **X**. _Oh this love that I've found, I detest_

  
Wade’s caressing the barrel of his gun. There’s a hand on his shoulder, over his own hand, a voice in his ear, pleading, begging, “No, Wade, don’t do this, it’s okay. I’ll wait for you, Wade, you don’t have to come to me.”  
  
Wade laughs, hysterically, and there’s tears burning his eyes, his cheeks, his chin, his chest. He clutches the gun tighter to him, fingers shaking, chest heaving. “I miss you, Petey, baby, never thought I’d -” he hiccups. “Thought I’d end up like this. Damn, I’m gonna make the readers cry, aren’t I?”  
  
“You don’t have to, Wade, you can stop this.”  
  
“No, Petey, I can’t.”  
  
“Please.”  
  
“You’re dead, Spidey, it doesn’t matter. This whole Marvel NOW! shit sucks anyway, you’re dead, you’re dead, you’re dead.”  
  
There’s the press of cool metal against his tongue, clacking against his teeth.   
  
A flex of a finger.  
  
A noise, a bright light, a bang.  
  
When Wade turns around, Peter is there.

**Author's Note:**

> I literally cried while writing this. I don't’ cry while writing fics, but no, I’m crying.


End file.
